Strip My Mind
by Charlliess
Summary: AU/AH. They were drowning together in the sea of burning love, but now all they have left is despair. Damon Salvatore and Elena Gilbert are both trying to move on, only to discover that the cozy streets of New York may hide more than one broken heart.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hi! This is my first attempt to write something in English. Yeah, I'm a girl from Czech Republic so I used to write my stories only in Czech. Few weeks ago I woke up and decided to take a chance and try it also with my favorite language, English. **

**This one piece was inspired by the song ****_Strip My Mind _****(Red Hot Chili Peppers). You should listen to it through reading, but I'm not forcing you. I know that it's not a typical 'TVD story', but when I was writing it, I imagined our beloved couple ****_Damon and Elena_****. **

**I'm sorry for any mistakes - I'm sure there would be many of them**.

**_Warning:_****_ Mature Content. And by the way, I don't own The Vampire Diaries, nor the Red Hot Chili Peppers band. If I could, I would allow Ian Somerhalder to do cuddle sessions with his pets all day long and RHCP would sing/play to me everytime and everywhere I want._**

* * *

**_Hot as Hades, early eighties_**

**_Sing another song_**

**_Make me feel like I'm in love again - hey_**

**_You gotta lose to win_**

**_Oh yeah_**

**_Oh_**

**_Please don't strip my mind_**

**_Leave something behind_**

**_Please don't strip my mind_**

She's like a snake.

Yeah, she's digging her beautiful, long nails into the nape of my neck right now. Great, I gotta take her hands into mine and bring them down again. It's like this almost every time. Practically every _fucking_ time. And I don't even know why she does it. I just know that I hate it.

She's stripping my mind.

I don't allow anyone to strip my mind. It's a big NO. Nobody can read my thoughts; nobody can taste my soul. I like it this way and I want to leave it this way.

But she's stripping my _fucking_ mind!

Don't take me wrong, I like this girl. She has a nice body, beautiful soul and kind heart. Being with her is as arousing as looking in your teenage years at posters of naked women. Perfect and mind-blowing experience.

The problem is that I was never a fan of mind-blowing experiences. Of course, sometimes it's great to just let go and clean your mind, but I use for this much safer words, for example _fucking_, _drinking_ or _sleeping_. However, with _her_ it's all of this so very dangerous. I need to be aware of her every move, look, touch, kiss…

Right now she's so beautiful. Her brown hair is spread over the pillow; her eyes are shining like two big stars in the middle of darkness and those blood-red lips are slightly open, revealing brightly white teeth and smooth as silk, rosy tongue. She's breathing heavily. And then there are those flushed cheeks. I love them so fucking much. Or her firm breasts. They always bounce when she struggles underneath me. I love that, too.

Hell, if I were a famous quarterback at some pretty big high school, I would say to her that she's perfect to me; that I want to and _need to _love her.

_Stop!_

You see that? That's how she strips my mind!

I don't believe in love, nor in relationships or even friendships with women. I use girls younger than twenty-five and older than sixteen, just so I could woo them and then fuck their brains out. It's pretty simple math which have been my motto since the day I lost my virginity. This is what I believe in.

But I never thought that at the age of twenty-six I would meet someone who will change my life; who will destroy everything I'd ever believed in.

_She did._ She strips my mind.

Oh my fucking god, what does she do to me? I feel like a little boy when she looks at me like this. Her eyes are wide open and tons of emotions are written in them. And it's beautiful, because nobody has ever looked at me like she does. Nobody has ever evoked in me these feelings. My heart beats faster when she smiles. My body shakes when she touches me. My mind is in overload.

_And I love it all._

Because she strips my mind.

* * *

**If you want me to continue with the story, because this was originally written as prologue, leave me a review or two. I accept any and every idea/suggestion/opinion. Thank you!**

_You can follow me on tumblr: carlacorner_


	2. Chapter 1 - Lover to Lover

**A/N: Hello! Firstly, I have to raise my voice and send to you one big THANK YOU, because I am absolutely thrilled that so many people have already favorited/reviewed/followed my short story. After long wait which was caused by me enjoying the beauty of England (I was in the same country as Ian Somerhalder once had been. Oh my ****_fucking_**** god.) I am finally here with the first official chapter of ****_Strip My Mind_****. I hope you will enjoy it! By the way, most parts of this chapter was inspired by the song "Lover to Lover". (Listen to it.) We will slightly move into the future and the part which is written in cursive, is Elena's flashback to the past. Also, be aware that this story does include only humans. **

**Again,**** I'm sorry for any mistakes - I'm sure there would be many of them.**

_**Warning:**__**Mature Content. **_**_And by the way, I don't own The Vampire Diaries, nor The Florence and The Machine. If I could, I would allow Ian Somerhalder to build an animal sanctuary at the Salvatore mansion and Florence Welch would sing/play to me every time I gave in my gathered feelings._**

* * *

**_There's no salvation for me now_**

**_No space among the clouds_**

**_And I've seen that I'm heading down_**

**_But that's alright_**

_**That's alright**_

**THREE YEARS LATER**

"Matt, please," I hear myself whispering while my boyfriend sweats above me. _"Harder."_

I desperately try to concentrate on all those sweet feelings gathering in the depths of my core, but today I just can't bring myself to give in. Maybe it is the wrong shade of blue peeking at me through heavy eyelids, or the not right weight of man's body moving on the top of mine that cause me those troubles. And maybe I'm only not in the mode of cooperative girlfriend.

_Fake girlfriend._

Sometimes, mainly in the moments like this when I'm losing strength and my heart starts to scream, I need to ask myself: Is it a good decision to be with the person you can never love? To share your everyday life, your fairs, your victories and even your favorite food with the person you just use to fill the painful emptiness? And I can't forget the most substantial question of all: Does it make me a bad person?

Sometimes, I'm really not sure.

I met my current boyfriend exactly two years ago. Matthew Donovan was the main waiter at the restaurant where I got my first job after moving out from California to New York. This city had been the only place where I felt save and in peace with my thundering emotions.

You just can't hate New York.

The rush of traffic jams. Multicultural people standing in the lines at coffee shops. High buildings screaming all those dream stories about elegance, modernity and money. Secret streets in Manhattan that scares you the first time you walk across them, but then you realize they are unique and quite cozy. And then there is my most favorite part of the city, _The Central Park_ and its trees. They have such a wide crowns that you are able to sit under them in hot summer days, reading crazy words of Ernest Hemingway.

It's impossible to hate the city of New York. But still, even though I live here, in the most interesting place of the world, I can't bring myself to truly love my life; to smile every morning and look forward to every evening spent in the arms of my boyfriend. I just _can't_.

_"__I just… I just can't," I tell him between heavy sobs. My breathing is slightly irregular and every part of my body, especially heart, convulse in burning pain. _

_But it's absolutely nothing in compare to the agony I see in his eyes. Their crystal shade of blue that always used to remind me the amenity of diamond, is now faded and empty. _

_I hate myself. So much._

_"__I'm not good enough for you," he states roughly and without any doubt._

_It's not true. He _is_ good for me. He _is_ everything I've ever needed. He _is _the one and only owner of my heart. The problem is not in him. _It's me._ Only me. _

_"I'm so sorry...," I whisper brokenly, but it doesn't make anything better. Quite the opposite. His sadness quickly turns into furious madness._

_Now I hate myself even more. _

_"That's all you have to say?" he shouts angrily as his body moves dangerously close to mine. "That you are _sorry_?"_

_"I..."_

_I try to find a good reason. I really do. The problem is that there isn't an explanation to my actions. At least not the one he would understand and especially not the one he would like to hear._

_He doesn't wait for my answer._

_"All those months we spent together, love we made together and the words we said to each other... And you are sorry?"_

_His words cut me hard. I can't stop the replay of images that slowly flash behind my eyes. I would never be able to forget the time we spent together, the passionate love we shared and the words we whispered to each other during restless nights._

_It's impossible to forget any of it._

_But today is not the time to feel nostalgic, nor the time to be weak. I'm here to finish this part of my life and freed myself of everything. So the only thing I can do right now is to take a deep breath, look into his mesmerizing eyes and force my hands to stop trembling like a quivering jars. _

_Yes, I _can_ do it. _

_"It wasn't a fairytale Damon," I remind him softly, but seeing his heartbreaking expression tells me he is not interested in false softness. "It still isn't."_

_That sinister anger rises again. I don't know if I am able to survive another emotional outburst, so I quickly search for the words of comfort._

_"But I never meant to hurt you." _

_There it is. The one and only phrase that doesn't make me guilty, because surprisingly, it is utterly true. From the first moment of our twisted relationship I knew that one of us will get hurt. Badly. But I always thought it would be me who becomes the loser in our game. Sometimes I even hoped for it. And now I'm standing here, on the edge of California's most beautiful cliff, and I'm fulfilling my perfect plan to hurt _him_. _

_His furious shouting brings me back to the painful present. _

_"I fucking know this!" _

_He takes a few steps back, all the time maintaining eye contact, and kicks into freely lying rocks. Something uncertain flashes across his face and then he is standing right before me, breathing heavily. "I changed because of you. For you! And now I just have to... _Go_?"_

_Never before had I wanted to tell him _'No!'_ like I do in this very moment. But instead of "You don't have to go" I answer his question with "We both have to". _

_He had to catch the sadness and insecurity which crept into my voice, because before I can say anything else to fix the mistake, he is cradling my face in both of his hands._

_"Elena... Let's stop hurting each other," he says lowly while his thumbs keep brushing the skin of my tears-stained cheeks. "This is pointless. I can be with you. I know I can. Why don't you accept it? Why don't you accept me?" _

_I want to scream "I do accept you!", but the words are simply not coming out. My hesitation tells him all he needs to hear and as a punishment I lose the sweet contact of his hands on my face. _

_"God, I sound like such a pussy."_

_"That's why," I quickly respond to his remark. _

_"What?"_

_"You're telling me to accept you, but you never thought about accepting your true self."_

_I know this is a lame excuse. We discussed this more than twice and I always told him that it's certainly not his fault he can't show his true self to everyone. But right now I have to keep the past out of the way._

_"Right," he snickers bitterly. "Because that's fucking easy."_

_"Yeah, it would be if you really wanted to be with me."_

_"I love you for god's sake!" he shouts louder than ever before. "Don't you get it?"_

_His eyes are full of burning flames and I'm constantly sure he speaks true. How long did I wait to hear those words? From the moment I fell in love with him. And how much do I want to run into his strong arms and let myself drown in the sea of our love? Desperately. _

_"__I... I didn't..."_

_Still, I stay in one place, watching the love of my life drowning in the quite different sea. It's called despair. _

_"__You lost your words, right?" he points out. "Damon Salvatore fell in love for the first time in his entire life. How magical!"_

_It really sounds magical. The only problem is that his love is not enough. _

Matt's love for me is not enough.

Our relationship is just a good lie. Maybe I did fall in love with him. Maybe I still love him. However, this kind of love is not usually displayed as burning flames and doesn't feel like you're drowning in it. My best friend Caroline likes to call it "_pity love_". If you search it on the web, you will find a full amount of various sites talking about the difference between love and pity. On one of those websites I even read a story in which pity turned into great love. I used to think that the _pity love_ I feel for Matt from our first encounter would eventually turn into something more and significant, but it hadn't and unfortunately never will.

My second best friend Stefan, who is also Caroline's future husband, once told me that I shouldn't dwell on what happened in the past. "It's the only real reason why you're not able to move on," he said in that utterly understanding voice which I both hate and love, because it always forces me to reconsider my life decisions. And I must admit that I truly reconsidered my whole life more than zillion times on his command. It didn't change anything though.

Nevertheless, Stefan always speaks true. That's the reason why I consider him as one of my closest friends. Caroline is very similar in this department, but not much understanding. She doesn't know how to lie; neither does she know how to tell the truth. I haven't told her about the problems of my relationship yet, but she is well aware of my past.

She was the one who picked me up on the airport when I finally arrived in New York three years ago. She was the one who picked up the pieces of my shattered self. She was the one who helped me to find my first job and my first apartment ever. And finally, she was the one who chose my bridesmaid dress for _her_ wedding.

_Speaking of…_

"Do you know when exactly do we need to be on that wedding rehearsal tomorrow?" I ask Matt as he walks out of the bathroom after our not exactly successful lovemaking. He always showers after sex, reasoning that he hates the feeling of sweaty skin. I, on the other hand, shower to cover the _smell_ of him.

"Five o'clock," he answers as he gets into our bed and snuggles under the covers. "Do we really have to go?"

Tired sigh escapes my mouth. We discussed it just yesterday. "I am Caroline's only bridesmaid. She and Stefan are both my best friends, which mean we really have to go."

While I search for my favorite book in the bedside table, Matt mutters something about Stefan and Caroline being annoying. I rather ignore him and began to read one of Ayn Rand's novels.

It takes only a few minutes for Matt to fall asleep beside me. He doesn't snore, but sometimes he grunts a little and I hate to listen to it. So when he grunts for a sixth time, I stop reading and rather go to kitchen.

Our flat is not warm and cozy how I firstly planned it to be. The kitchen is all in black and white with lots of steel elements. Except some of the decorative items I brought here from my apartment, the rest of the place is designed in mainly cold colors. Luxury furniture, but not welcoming. It is very pessimistic, but Matt bought this place as his sort of an office, so I didn't spend lots of time designing the rooms. Now I know it was a mistake. Matt moved here for good after some time, because he thought it's pointless to pay two apartments. Fortunately, I still keep my old one and although the driving between two places is quite exhausting, I would never sell it.

Nothing in the kitchen helps me to get sleepier, not even a glass of warm milk, so I write a note for Matt and after a quick dressing up I drive to my _second_ place.

Here is my home. The walls are warm, furniture is comfy, decorations are lovely and atmosphere is cozy. The best thing though is a view to the small city park. It's not a Central Park, but it is _my home_.

"How are you doing baby?" I ask my quite colorful cat that jumps into my arms almost immediately as I walk through the door. I found him in the streets two years back, named him _Rapfield_ and now he keeps sleeping in my bed. Annoying little thing.

"I promise I will come here more often," I whisper as I nuzzle his grey, black, brown and gold fur. It still amazes me how someone could create such a creature like him.

Rapfield meows a few times, then jumps out of my arms and walks into an open kitchen, all the time slowly wiggling with his long tail. Yes, it's time for dinner.

I never thought I would have a cat. I was always a dog type of the girl, but one certain cat has changed my opinion forever. It was _his_ cat.

"Here you go."

I lay Rapfield's dinner on the floor beside a small white fridge and began to wander around my kitchen, cleaning counters and mainly keeping my hands busy.

I hate those nights when I can't stop thinking about _him_. It started by losing _concentration_ during sex with Matt and continued until this point where I have no other option than to give in my gathered feelings.

First tear drops on the kitchen parquet just in time as my body traditionally slides to the ground.

_I hate him. _

_I love him._

_I can't…_

"Elena? Are you here?"

It's not _his_ voice. Why I can't stop hoping that one day he will come back and rescue me? It must be my heart. _And his love._

"I knew you would be here."

Matt's figure comes into my view and almost immediately I want to vomit. He can't see me like this.

"Go away, Matt. Please."

"I'm not him Elena," says my boyfriend, gazing lovingly into my puffy eyes. "You can't command me to leave when I clearly see that you need help."

As always when he says those words, anger slowly rises in my chest. But then he opens his strong arms that can comfort me almost like _his _could, and I run into them without uttering any of the rude words I previously prepared.

"Shhh, it's okay," he utters while I keep crying and unintentionally destroying his white t-shirt. "You're not a bad person."

And that's exactly _why_ I am with Matt.

He doesn't know the whole story; nor the identity of my '_old lover', _like he use to call him. We had worked together for a few long months back in time when I was new in New York and mainly new in my own life. I didn't know anybody here, expect Caroline and Stefan, so I really welcomed the friendship I established with Matt. However, I wasn't – _am still not_ - an easy person and my friends got hurt many times – just because I couldn't let myself be happy, or at least accept some form of happiness they so gladly offered to me.

The first one who confronted me was Caroline. Then Stefan. And finally, Matt. He broke the walls of my past and forced me to challenge the presence. It happened exactly like this very night. After we accidently kissed for the first time, thanks to one lonely mistletoe hanging from the doorframe at Caroline's Christmas party, I run off to my apartment and almost fell into one of my deepest depressions. Matt found me and started telling me all those words of comfort, even voicing my deepest fears and worries. It didn't help me to feel better, but this one night – and all nights which came after that - proved to me that he is on my side.

Pity or not, I really love him for that.

We started dating one year back. Matt was always around me and we even kissed a few times. Now I know that it wasn't the best decision of my life; to start dating someone just because I felt gratitude to that person, but what could I do? Stayed alone? Being stuck in my past for the rest of the time?

I am very aware that my past will haunt me forever. Only my decisions took me here and only my decisions are able to lead me out of here.

I just can't stop moving forward.

_At least not now._

**_And I've been taking chances_**

**_I've been setting myself up for the fall_**

**_I've been keeping secrets_**

_**From my heart and from my soul**_

* * *

**I know you must be very confused now, but believe in me (and in my story) - all the secrets will be revealed. Also, be aware that this story is about real life, love and relationships - that's the reason why you may think now that Elena is an idiot. I want to keep the storyline as much realistic as I can, so I hope that somewhere along the road you will find out the truth about Elena's current behaviour and understand it. (And Damon's - because, believe me, he is preparing a great show for you.)**

**Thank you for reading this chapter and please, leave me a review or two. I accept any and every idea/suggestion/opinion. **

_You can follow me on tumblr: carlacorner_


	3. Chapter 2 - One Way To Live

**A/N: Hello! Firstly, I have to apologize for not updating sooner. I thought that I would be able to update at least twice a month, but you know, karma is a bitch. I will try to get better and update more often; karma may kiss my ass. Secondly, I'm absolutely addicted to your reviews. Abso-fucking-lutely. And finally, I'm not sure if this chapter is good, but I certainly liked to turn into Damon. Also, there is a part written in cursive, which is Damon's flashback from the past. Enjoy it and be free to listen to Conor Oberst's Lua throughout reading. (I am highly inspired by his music.)**

**I'm sorry for any mistakes - I'm sure there would be many of them**.

_**Warning:**__**Mature Content. And by the way, I don't own The Vampire Diaries, nor Conor Oberst's songs. If I could, I would allow Ian Somerhalder to film lots of scenes underwater so he can study coral reefs and Conor Oberst would sing/play to me everytime I felt utterly lost or had an urge to hug Ian Somerhalder.**_

* * *

_And I know you have a heavy heart; I can feel it when we kiss_

_So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift it_

_But me I'm not a gamble you can count on me to split_

_The love I sell you in the evening, by the morning won't exist._

* * *

There was one girl I used to love. She was beautiful, clever, funny and very sexy. We had dated for a few months and I swear it really wasn't just about sex, even though the time we spent in the bed was never filled with boredom. If I think about it more profoundly, she was a perfect match for me.

But she wasn't _Elena_.

Don't start making any assumptions. I'm not some lovesick guy who keeps sitting in the bar and drinking cheap alcohol, just so he can forget for one simple night how miserable his life actually is.

_I _drink bourbon.

My most favorite brand of very much expensive alcohol is called Black Maple Hill and it is a 16-year old bourbon whiskey that smells as something obscenely sweet and tastes like sugar-coated syrup. I demand my bourbon to be strong, dark and burning, something like Elijah Craig 21-Year-Old Single Barrel. But Elena loved the Black Maple Hill type of the bourbon and therefore I drink it every time I want to get lost in the memories of her existence.

_How tragic._

Once again, don't start making any assumptions. I turn into lovesick guy only when things go wrong and I end up with some sort of an existential crisis. It happens just a few times per week. No big deal. The rest of the time I am forced to spend in my own firm, surrounded by insanely annoying co-workers and even worse team of employees.

But yeah, I love my job so fucking much, mainly the fact that exactly three years back I lost my Elena because of some luxury office on the 23rd floor and a bank account that keeps gaining more and more numbers.

I still remember the day she broke up with me. We made love the night before - _not sex_ - and for the first time in my life I felt an unbelievable urge to tell someone those magic words which meaning is described even in the lyrics of _The_ _Rolling Stones_ most popular songs. However, the morning came and showed me that I was an ass for thinking that she would accept my feelings.

Not when I told her so many times before that I wasn't capable of love. Not when my father told her how much I was needed in his former firm. Not when I told her to have a nice life and left without a proper goodbye kiss.

"Do you need me to bring you those papers you wanted to see?"

The voice of my old secretary interrupts that bittersweet replay of the past and I inwardly groan. This work is just so tedious.

"Yes," I answer without thinking. "But wait. Which papers I wanted to see?"

My secretary, Grace Murphy, is a 50-year-old lady who likes to wear elegant costumes you may see only in old Chanel boutiques, keeps coloring her hair to blond and knows all those crappy romantic novels, so when you have a bad mood or fuck up something important, she can't stop telling you one advice after another, because she got them from the stories and fairytales that surprisingly have happy ending. And you can ask her to shut up and explain to her that life is not a storybook as many times as you want, but it never helps to silence her. _Never._

"My sweet boy," she whispers softly and I prepare myself for her yet another emotional outburst. "You're thinking about _her_ again."

I quickly shake my head in disagreement before I reveal a perfectly fake smile. My secretary is the last person that needs to know what am I currently thinking about. "No, absolutely not. I was just... Being nostalgic and all."

Grace smiles at me and walks further into the office, all the time observing the mess I created on the ground through the week and picking up random papers which are the only decorative element in this cage made of glass. "You should know that it's absolutely normal to think about her," she starts and I clench my jaw to stop myself in telling her something rude.

"You're doing it _again_, Grace," I warn her in a slightly angry tone.

"I'm sorry, Damon. I just want to help you."

I know she just wants to help me. She has been helping me since the moment I hired her. But sometimes I only want to be left in silence, dream of the never coming future and keep trying to forget my sorrow.

And sometimes it's just _not_ possible.

"You should go on a vacation," she suggests with a comforting smile on her lips. "Take a trip around the world. Maybe it would help to ease your nerves. Besides, you never know whom you can find there."

"Where?" I ask, bored.

Grace picks up a last paper from the floor and starts to sort the documents into various files that are surprisingly lying on my large desk. Enzo had to put them there.

"All around the world, Damon."

Well, apparently today is one of those days when my secretary tries to persuade me to move on. And today is also another one of those days when I completely ignore what my secretary is saying.

"Can you send Enzo into my office, please?"

I would never use rude words in front of Grace, but enough is _enough_. Thankfully, she knows the sharp changes of my mood and very quickly backs off before I can even think about kicking out a few of my innocent employees.

However, just like I thought earlier, today is not a lucky one.

"Just think about it," she whispers in the doorway, "at least because of her."

And then Grace Murphy walks out of the office and leaves me to fall back into the past.

_I've never wanted anyone as much as I want Elena Gilbert. _

_Right now, in this glorious moment of desire, I can't find a place where I would like more to be, or a girl I would like more to fuck. It's only Elena. Only Elena Gilbert and her bed with white, innocent sheets._

_It's not our first night spent with mind-blowing sex. Oh no, no, we've been fuck buddies for more than two weeks now and I wouldn't change a thing about it. Simply stated, we work throughout the day and fuck at night. No dating, no talking and especially, no relationship._

_I've never been happier._

_But – and there is always a 'but' – I'm starting to feel that Elena wants more. What's worst? I'm starting to feel that I want more too. Sure, sex is amazing and I really love the fact that we don't need to spend two hours eating an overpriced dinner so we can 'make love'. What I hate about our agreement is the loneliness. And I think she feels the same. Sometimes, when I dress to leave her house early in the morning, she looks at me with her doe eyes and all I can see in them is sadness. _

_But – and there is always a second 'but' – I'm not a fan of relationships with women. Sex? Hell yeah! Dating? Hell no! Being friends? Only if she's a lesbian. And still, Elena is the first girl that makes me feel incomplete and whole all at once._

_It's like she can complete those parts of me that were aching before, but on the other hand, she also makes me longing for the things that I've never even thought I would miss. Like being able to talk with the girl I'm currently fucking. Or take her on a concert. Or just spend some time with her._

_However, now is not the time to deal with my maddened brain. Now is time to start another crazy night._

_"__Get naked and lay down on the bed."_

_Normally, she obeys without uttering a word. Only today is unusually different. She's standing in front of me wearing nothing but white boy short panties and my unbuttoned royal blue shirt which I forgot here the first time we had sex. Her long, silky hair shines in the same color as two chocolate eyes that keep watching my every move and whose intense stare is turning me on._

_She's absolutely delicious. _

_"__Hey," I whisper huskily. "You want to tease me?"_

_Elena shakes her head and slowly walks closer to me. I can't decipher what are her intentions, but then she kisses me deeply and I stop thinking about it. Here comes an electric buzz, burning sparks and my hard-on. _

_"__Get naked and lay down on my bed" is the only thing I hear from Elena before she turns around and goes to the bathroom. I have strong urge to ignore that surprising demand and show her who's the boss here, but my wicked side – yes, I'm partially talking about my cock – desperately wants to know how this thing will continue. _

_Once I'm undressed and sprawled on always perfumed sheets, Elena comes out of the bathroom, totally naked and clearly flushed due to her embarrassment. Never before has she done something like this._

_I feel honored._

_I don't want to scare her even more so I keep my mouth shut. She bites her plump lower lip a few times before she crawls on the bed and straddles my thighs. This is also new – I've never let her be on the top._

_"__I… I wanted to…," she utters shakily while looking down at my exposed crotch. "Just try something."_

_I wink at her and say: "So try it."_

_Now that she has all the needed encouragement, her game can officially start. And what a start it is… _

_She begins with kissing, licking and slightly biting an area around my cock. When I groan for the first time since her assault has started, she even gives me a hard kiss on the lips, but then goes back to her previous work after I try to deepen it. _

_That little vixen._

_I change that thought when Elena unexpectedly latches her mouth on my hard-on. She's way more than just a little vixen. I have no idea if she gave a blowjob to some of her past boyfriends, but it's perfect. Her warm mouth makes me feel like I'm in my personal heaven. And her tongue? Her tongue is actually forcing me to moan and whimper like a heroin addict who's just riding on cloud nine._

_How she does that? How she does that she turns everything we do in experience so phenomenal, life-shattering, mind-blowing and absolutely unique?_

_I want her so badly._

_"__Elena," I groan loudly, "let me fuck you."_

_Words fade into nothingness, mainly because Elena keeps doing her magic on my cock and I can't bring myself to stop her. Instead I dive into desperation and start complimenting her job. _

_"__Don't stop," slips out of my mouth. "You're perfect."_

_And then… Then she stops. I look at her with wide eyes and an unbearable need to force her to continue, but she surprises me once again when she shifts slightly forward and impales herself on my erected cock. We both moan at the same time and after I realize that she's already so wet for me, I buck my hips from the bed and into her. _

_I'm on edge. _

_However, Elena doesn't move. She just watches my utter desperation; her hair is disheveled and unfortunately hides two perfect breasts. _

_She has to move before I explode._

_"__Elena," I grunt through the teeth as my hands find their place on her hips. "Move."_

_Brown eyes settle on mine and then she's leaning over me, hard nipples scratching my chest and silky hair tickling my cheeks._

_"__Beg," she whispers. Only mere millimeters are separating our lips and I want to kiss her but then my brain finally catches what she'd said._

_"__You want me to beg?" I ask, totally surprised by her confidence. Where is that young innocent Elena I met just a few weeks back?_

_"__Yes."_

_One simple word can change lots of things, for example my own rules. I don't like when women dictate me what to do, because then they can easily control my life. However, Elena is a different case. Everything with her is different, unusual, without control… I have this exquisite urge to break all the rules for her; to beg and let her control me. And mainly, I'm scared what will happen if I don't let her. I'm scared she would leave me. I'm scared I would miss her._

_In this moment, she's all I need. _

_"__Please, Elena. Fuck me."_

_She listens to my pleading voice with burning flames in her eyes. It doesn't take long before she starts moving, firstly agonizingly slow, but when I thrust my hips into her a little bit harder, she moans and quickens the pace. I like this new position – she looks as a true goddess above me; sweating, panting and moaning my name while trying to lead our rhythm._

_"__Am I good at this?" she asks me in one long whimper. Her eyes are now connected with mine and I can see that she's kind of desperate for her sweet release._

_"__Very good," I answer gently._

_"__Then why…"_

_"__Why you're not able to orgasm?"_

_Elena blushes wildly, but then quickly nods and looks down to the connected parts of our bodies. I perfectly know what the problem here is so I sit up and grab her firm ass. She moans loudly and I smile lazily, satisfied by her reaction. _

_"__It's not just about going up and down," I explain while showing her the motions. "Try to rock your hips."_

_"__Ok," she says breathlessly and repeats the rocking a few more times before I begin to thrust into her. _

_Those whimpers and moans are my melody. _

_"__You see," I whisper into her ear, "this way I brush against your clit and even reach hidden places inside of you."_

_Just when I hit one very special spot inside of her hot heat, Elena throws her hands around my shoulders and starts riding me like a woman possessed by devil. I can't form any more words so I just squeeze her ass and catches those deliciously sweet, red lips which were tempting me a whole day. _

_Once we separate for breath, incredible release crashes into both of us. We come together, riding our orgasms till the very end._

_She was excellent._

_She was all I need._

_ "__I want to travel all around the world," she whispers into the damp skin of my neck later that night. "Maybe… We can…"_

_"__Maybe what?"_

_She still hesitates so I put my left hand on her lower back and trace indecipherable patterns into the exposed skin along her spine._

_I don't want to say it aloud, but I can get used to this comfortable position we are currently in._ _It feels good to have a warm and mainly naked woman's body lying on the top of me. And it feels even better when that naked woman's body is from Elena._

_Fuck. I'm ruined._

_"__Maybe we can travel together," says my naked girl in a slightly dreamy voice and I can feel the urge to flinch away from her heat. This is not the first time she's trying to start a conversation about our future, but it is the first time I am actually wishing to react on her suggestion. However, even if I wanted to travel all around the world with her, it wouldn't be possible. Our fairytale is going to end very soon and I will have to go back to my personal hell._

_But she doesn't have to know about it._

_"__I'm not a good travel partner," I answer and unwillingly stand up, searching for my jeans around the room. _

_"__Damon?"_

_Normally, I wouldn't stop to hear what she's trying to say. But her voice is so soft, sad even. Today, I just can't walk away. _

_I want to make her happy. And not in the way of giving her another orgasm. I want to tell her something that will make her smile; that will sweep away every one of her insecurities. _

_And mainly, I want to be the one who helps her to be strong and confident as the one woman that forced me to beg just thirty minutes ago._

_So I turn back and sit in front of her on the bed. She has already been dressed in my blue shirt and is now looking at me like if I stole her favorite teddy bear. Truth be told, the image before my eyes is making me reconsider that sinful decision about another orgasms._

_"__What exactly do you want, Elena?" I ask her softly, but clearly._

_"__I don't know what you mean."_

_"__Tell me what you want to do right now," I insist._

_"__I just… I just want to talk,"_ _she finally blurts out, once again looking as an innocent angel._

_I really shouldn't do it. My rules are unbreakable, right? There is no room for exceptions. Our relationship doesn't even exist. And this night? Doesn't prove anything. Ok, maybe I'm a little bit more affected by our agreement and Elena's changing behavior, but that is not a valid reason to actually change myself._

_Expect… There is Elena. And somehow I can't bring myself to stop what I'm about to do. _

_"__So…," I drawl. "Talk to me."_

"Hey!"

My thoughts break as my comfy leather armchair I'm sitting in is abruptly shifted and I lose balance. Once I lay on the floor, Enzo's face appears above me. He's laughing.

_That bastard. _

"What?!" I snap.

"Just wanted to make sure that our boss didn't fall asleep."

"Right," I utter, "like you would mind if I did."

Lorenzo James is my partner in crime. When I came to this firm 3 years ago, he was working as an assistant. Though he studied business – just like me – and applied for a job of business manager, my old father used him as his personal minion. I was sick of it, mainly because Enzo didn't deserve it and then because it reminded me the way my father had manipulated with me since I was a little kid. Anyway, when I finally won the position of CEO in our family firm, Enzo has become my business partner.

And we have been the most successful leaders of the Salvatore Inc. since it was founded.

_Rest in peace, father._

"Why did you need me to come here?" Enzo asks as he helps me to stand up. "I was in the middle of an _interesting_ conversation with my secretary."

"Typical," I say to myself and slightly chuckle while sitting back in my chair. "I was just wondering if you're going to the bar this evening."

My friend looks at me with pity in his dark eyes. "Sorry buddy, but I'm meeting one gorgeous girl this evening."

"You're meeting a girl?" I ask, surprised as fuck.

Enzo doesn't do relationships which is the main reason why we've become drink buddies. Hell, I can't even remember the last time he dated someone. Our work doesn't allow us to meet _gorgeous_ _girls_ - that's how Enzo calls those who are Elena Gilbert types; something special. And if we actually meet someone, then it's 'I sleep with you just because you're my boss and your suite is Dolce & Gabbana' type of secretary. So we established a deal: No fucking at work, but lots of _flirting_ at bar.

"One special girl from my past is getting married next week," starts Enzo, "and I want to persuade her to cancel it."

"Are we talking about that blonde vixen?"

He doesn't answer, only smiles dreamily and I instantly know that today I'm really drinking alone.

Blonde vixen, alias Enzo's only past love, is Elena Gilbert type of the girl. Gorgeous, special and mainly out of the reach. He doesn't talk about her very much, but I know they had dated for a three whole years when they were in high school.

"I contacted her after she sent me an invitation to the wedding. She's marrying a total dick."

"So you have a date?"

"Well, we'll see," he answers and I knowingly smirk. "We're going to some famous photo exhibition that her friend is organizing. She always liked that type of dates."

My mind stopped working at the word _photo_. I remember all those times when I took Elena to various photo exhibitions; I remember all those times she talked about her own dream exhibition; I remember how she wanted to travel all around the world and just take photos of everything and everyone. I remember all those reasons why I miss her so much.

"Damon?"

"What again?" I groan loudly.

Enzo laughs and adjusts his not-so-perfectly fitting suit. "You should go on a vacation," he whispers dramatically. I quickly grab a stapler that lies on my desk and throw it on my best friend, but unfortunately he catches it smoothly.

_That bastard._

"But really," he says between laughs, "go out and get laid."

"And how exactly shall I do it if my drinking buddy is doing a replay of 'My best friend's wedding'?" I ask with an obvious grin on my face.

"Firstly, you know we don't talk about that film because the last time we did, everything went black from the amount of bourbon we had consumed," he starts in mocking whisper. "And secondly, it's pretty simple. You just have to stand up and fucking do something with your miserable life."

Says the one who was miserable just a week ago and forced me to go out drinking at 3 am. On a workday, may I add.

"I don't want to go anywhere. I'm actually very happy with my own way of living."

I'm not saying that my life is an example of utter happiness, but it_ is_ one way how to live. And I rather keep living my miserable life than trying to create a false one.

"Come on, Damon. We're talking about one evening," he insists and it kind of reminds me someone.

"I really don't know why you care about what I do with my life," I say sincerely. "Did Grace tell you something?"

"Although she offered me a basket of cookies if I persuade you to go on a vacation, I didn't accept," he laughs a little, though I don't blame him for not accepting Grace's request. Her cookies really suck. "I'm getting tired of this game, Damon."

"That blonde thing just clouded your mind."

It's true. If we were talking about this just one week ago, he would accept my words without hesitation. We're best buddies, you know?

"And you do not have clouded mind?" Enzo shouts sternly. "We all have somehow clouded mind. But you're not even trying to see the sun when you have a chance to."

"I see the sun in the flask of bourbon. Or tequila, for hard times," I answer without any hint of hard emotions. I thought that Enzo would storm out of my office and won't speak to me for another week or so, but he actually walks closer to my table and smiles wickedly.

_Oh shit._

"If you go to that photo exhibition, I will buy you a whole new bottle of Black Maple Hill."

I gasp falsely and show him my middle finger. "You just want _me_ to approve your blonde thing."

"No, you're going to see some art, drink expensive champagne and hopefully get laid. Satisfied?"

"That champagne part sounds like a good fun," I point out and Enzo smiles, happy to be a winner of our little battle.

"So, do we have a deal?"

"I'm afraid that yes, we do."

"Good."

* * *

_And I'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this_

_The reasons all have run away but the feeling never did_

_It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live_

_Cause what is simple in the moonlight, by the morning never is_

_What's so simple in the moonlight, now is so complicated_

_What's so simple in the moonlight, so simple in the moonlight_

* * *

**So, what do you think? What about Damon's relationship with Elena? Or Enzo? And do you like Grace The Secretary?! Cause I love her! ****And no, Stefan is not Damon's brother in this story.**

**P. S. I can't imagine Enzo wearing a suit.**

**If you want me to continue with the story, please leave me a review or two. I accept any and every idea/suggestion/opinion. Thank you!**

_You can follow me on tumblr: carlacorner_


	4. Chapter 3 - Kill and Run

**A/N: Hello! I'm finally back with new chapter! Despite my promise about kicking Karma's ass, I didn't have as much time as I thought I would have. Studying is not an easy thing! I try to write almost every day, but if I want to make this story a good piece _(of shit)_, I can't quicken my pace because it would definitely damage this artwork. So, please, understand my feelings.**

**Back to this yummy chapter. It was actually inspired by so many things, including variety of great music, such as Sia's _Kill And Run_, or Rudimental's _Free_ featuring vocals from Emeli Sandé. I used lots of my favourite lines in flashback (again, written in cursive) and somehow poured my whole heart into it. Anyway, thank you for your support - reviews, favorites, follows - and don't forget that this chapter is from Elena's point of view.**

**I'm sorry for any mistakes - I'm sure there would be many of them.**

**Warning: _Mature Content. And by the way, I don't own The Vampire Diaries, nor Sia's songs. If I could, I would allow Ian Somerhalder to buy a pony (or two) so he would be able to make Damon Salvatore more badass, and Sia would sing to me every time I wanted to buy a pony and didn't have enough money (which is all the time)._**

* * *

_Watching the sequence of sounds_

_Coming out of your mouth_

_But the snow is too loud_

_Follow the hands as they move_

_Try to make out your mood_

_But my brain doesn't want to_

_I rule the dawn_

_Silent call for you_

_What have I done to you?_

* * *

Last night, just before I fell asleep on the couch in my apartment and with Rapfield comfortably nestled in my lap, I finally realized that starting a new life isn't a crime. It's necessary to do it if you don't want your soul to vanish into nothingness.

But what is the thing that keeps holding us back? It's our past.

There exist lots of quotes which were written to motivate you to _'stop thinking about your past and start living in your present_', but there is no exact way how you can actually do it. There is no one to help you, because _you_ are the only one who can do it.

And _that_ is the thing which scares me the most.

"How are you doing today?"

I look up from my mug that is filled with luxurious amount of coffee and watch as Caroline, my best friend, smoothes out her beautiful white dress. We'd been rehearsing for her wedding for more than two hours and now we are finally finishing. I've already tried on my outfit which is just plain yellow cocktail dress, but Caroline is taking her time to observe herself in the mirror. Those blue eyes have not looked away from her reflection since she got dressed and I had to rearrange curls of her blonde hair more times than it's possible to count.

My best friend's wedding just has to be perfect.

At least we are alone, because boys went home right after the wedding planner told them that their suits are fine and that they can't drink beer in a church, regardless how modern the building is.

"I'm fine, just a little bit tired."

Caroline nods in agreement and then says, "Tell me about it."

"I thought that Bonnie was hired so you can enjoy being a bride and drink lots of free champagne during rehearsals," I point out with an obvious grin on my face. No wedding planner is good enough to fulfill Caroline's every wish.

"I thought so too, but then I looked into her wedding plan and realized that _everything_ is absolutely wrong," she tells me dramatically while stepping out of cream white pumps. "I couldn't just sit down and enjoy the worst show in the world of weddings. It's _my_ wedding!"

I giggle, but then stand up from the sofa I'd been sitting on the whole time, put my mug down on the coffee table beside and move a few steps to Caroline. "You will have the most beautiful wedding in the world," I say softly as she turns around so I can help to unfasten her dress. "And nobody - not even your wedding planner - has the power to change it."

We're now both facing the mirror and I watch how her face switches from frustrated bride to sad little girl. "I'm scared, Elena."

"That's normal," I assure her. "You're just under lots of stress. I should've hired a temporary help so you could take a few days off before the wedding."

"It's not about work," she whispers and turns again to face me, but doesn't look me in the eye. It's an exact moment I realize that she really has to be scared.

"Everything was okay and still is. I don't care about our job, because admit it, _Elena_, you would get crazy without me," she laughs and I join her, which slightly ease the tension in the room. "I think I'm just… a little bit insecure."

"And what does make you insecure? Is it Stefan?"

Caroline shakes her head in disagreement and her wedding dress falls to the ground. "I don't know. It's more like a pure feeling."

"A feeling?" I ask doubtfully before I pick up the dress and put them on one of the few hangers beside mirror.

"Yes. Just like the feeling for which you broke up with Damon."

"I broke up with Damon for more reasons than just because of my stupid insecurity," I inform her a little too much harshly than what is necessary. "But Caroline, if you really feel like this, go talk about it with Stefan."

She looks at me and smiles sadly. "I've already tried it. He told me that he loves me and… I still feel_ it_."

I grab a silk robe from the hanger, then put it around her shoulders. "You know what I think?" I whisper after I cradle her in my arms, just like she did to me so many times before. "I think you're just overreacting and that everything will be fine. But if something happens and you will want to… Just know that I'm here for you."

"I'm glad you are," she says back and I tighten my arms around her, trying to make her believe that _everything_ will be alright. But truthfully, it is pretty ironic coming out of me if I'm not sure myself that I can believe in it.

We stand like this for awhile and I start to think that Caroline just needed a friend. I feel guilty for not realizing it much sooner, because apparently she has been in this state for quite some time.

"Ok, enough with my overreacting," she says as I slowly break our embrace. "I'm going to change, but you can go wait for me in my car."

"I think I rather take a walk. Or do you want me to ride with you?"

Caroline shakes her head in disagreement and sighs while smiling softly at me. "You and your walks."

_"Tell me again why we need to walk instead of taking a taxi?"_

_"Damon," I growl and look at him over my shoulder. "We're climbing a cliff, which also means there are no cars."_

_"Sorry, I forgot," he shouts at me. "I'm going to call my private helicopter."_

_I smile secretly and stop, waiting for him to walk up to me. "Can I just remind you that it was you who was constantly complaining about being bored?"_

_I feel him behind me, and when he wraps his arms around my waist, I just know what he's going to answer. "I was bored because of someone who didn't want to spend her only free day screaming in pleasure. With me, I must add."_

_Yes, I was **absolutely** right._

_"Instead she wants to spend her only free day taking hot pictures of my naked body on this stupid cliff," he whispers in my neck and then lightly scratches my earlobe with his teeth, which sends shivers straight to my core. "But I don't blame her. I'm irresistible."_

_"You're terrible," I say and shove him back so I can continue walking. This time he doesn't whine and quickly follows me, staying only one or maybe two steps behind me. "And stop ogling my ass."_

_"I remind it to you later."_

_"I'm a photographer. I can ogle your ass as much as I want. We call it 'searching for the right angle'."_

_I hear him laugh and in the next second he's beside me, squeezing my ass with both of his hands. Heat surges through me and I want to slap him in the face for making me blush and turning me on at the same time, but then he soothes that harsh squeeze with the velvet touch of his palms and I instantly want to do the same to his sweet and gorgeous buttocks. _

_Yet, I'm not bold enough to do it, maybe never will be, which is the main reason why Damon always wins. _

_"Smile, sunshine," he mutters lowly, "it's a beautiful day."_

_Smiling in Damon's company is an easy thing, especially when the atmosphere is as bright as this afternoon. He's just that type who makes you laugh, smile, blush, giggle and sometimes even cry, scream and pout. He makes your emotions singing. _

_After less than twenty minutes we finally reached the most beautiful cliff in California. There is no grass, no soil, only monumentally high, white and gray rocks that create an incredibly deep abyss between us and bright blue sea._

_"Wow," Damon breathes out while observing our surroundings. "Didn't know about this place."_

_"I found it yesterday's morning," I inform him and start searching for the best place from which I would take photos of Damon. I brought here my smallest manual camera, just to try how this place suits me._

_However, when I look back to Damon, he's smirking and walking slowly to me, eyes dark like those of hungry predator._

_"We're not having sex here," I say sternly and try to back away from him, but unfortunately I'm standing almost at the edge of one big rock which leads straight to the abyss. I can't move anywhere._

_"I don't want to have sex here. What do you think of me?" he asks innocently and I glare at him. "I want to jump."_

_He's now right in front of me, grinning like a 5-year-old kid who just got a new water gun, and looking at me like I am actually going to jump with him._

_"I'm **not** going to jump with you."_

_Damon doesn't acknowledge me, nor my protests. Instead he catches my arms and turns me around so that I have a perfect view of the abyss and its scary depth. Little rocks from under our feet get beyond the edge and fall down; deep down into the ocean. I'm trying to figure out how many meters that may be. How many meters may kill you? **Kill me.**_

_"I can hear your thoughts almost perfectly," he breaths out, keeping me in his strong embrace. "I feel your blood pumping. Wildly and strongly."_

_His warm fingers trace a path of arteries that are hidden under the skin of my neck. Goosebumps erupt all around my body and I start to shiver, but I'm not sure if it is due to an excitement that Damon is touching me, or if it is just from pure fear. Maybe it's kind of both._

_"Can you feel it Elena? That rush of adrenaline?" _

_I nod in agreement, but quickly search for a way how to get out of this. "I have with me my camera. I can't jump with you."_

_"Give me that camera," he says sternly and extends one of his hands to me. Because I'm really afraid that he would force me to jump, I carefully take the camera out of my shorts and hand it to him._

_"Do you want to take off your clothes? It will be easier to swim."_

_"No, because I'm not jumping with you," I answer in now perfectly scared voice. But Damon doesn't back off. He opens the button on my shorts and slips them off of me while kissing both of my buttocks. Then, without uttering any words, he takes off my tennis shoes, leaving me clad only in my underwear and white top. _

_For a few seconds I can't feel his presence behind me. I try to move; I try to run away. Unfortunately, my legs are not willing to listen. They act like they belong to Damon._

_"I'm scared Damon."_

_"I know you are," he whispers as his bare body embraces mine. "Do you remember the reason why we have started sleeping together?"_

_Blush creeps upon my face. "I do. Very correctly." _

_"Tell me about it," he commands and places a sweet kiss on my bare shoulder, his palms slowly massaging my stomach._

_"You... You told me that sex would make me more confident."_

_"Not just sex," he corrects, "but the whole bunch of benefits of actually being with me."_

_I frown. "You think this is a good way how to make me more confident?"_

_His answer comes without hesitation. "Yes."_

_"I'm still scared," I tell him honestly._

_"We're in this together," he assures me. "I'm not gonna let you down."_

_And I want to believe him. I really do. But… "What if something bad happens?"_

_He tightens his grip on my waist and I instantly feel more secure. "Nothing happens. And by the way, I know how to give CPR."_

_"Ha, ha, ha. Really funny, Damon."_

_"Oh, come on," he says in that velvety voice which very easily makes me weak in my knees. "Jump with me... Trust me, you're gonna love it."_

_"Why are you so sure?" I ask because his never ending independence absolutely scares me. Even more than this abyss._

_"Because deep down, you want to jump. You're wild and crazy and crave this feeling of freedom. The only thing that is stopping you right now are your chains made of morals and all that shit they kept teaching you," he says lowly, but forcefully. "Take off those chains. Rise with me to the sun."_

_His words are like an explosion. Every fiber in my body is now telling me to jump. I look into the sun and grab Damon's hands. He intertwines our fingers and gives my shoulder another sweet kiss. _

_This is all I need._

_"Let's raise to the sun."_

I walk silently, eyes half-closed and mind full-open.

Only when I hear a late evening bird do I look up to watch that tiny creature lightly hopping from one branch to another. Sometimes I wish I could have a life like birds do; just flying throughout different days and nights, greeting my favorite people and observing a simple beauty of everyday life. But I also know that even birds have to survive hard times; like protect themselves from greedy predators, or search for food to feed their families.

And still, they maintain maximum freedom. Nothing prevents them from reaching the sun.

I don't say anything; I don't slow. I rather continue walking towards my destination. A gentle wind is making my hair straggly, but at least I can listen to quiet whimpering of surrounding trees. Since it is late August, sun has already started descending from its post above the city and is now fighting with the horizon. Warm sunshine colors ugly streets and I'm finally happy, because this view is what I love and what makes me love my life.

After few more steps I turn the corner, which takes me to the park that is only several meters from both my work place and apartment. I was very lucky to find this part of the city with free apartments and lots of small shops just three months after I started living in New York. I worked really hard to afford everything and the first month I even had to beg Stefan to lend me some money. However, thanks to my job of waitress in a local bar I soon paid him back and finally could start saving money for the realization of my dream.

And really, my dream _did_ come true.

It wasn't easy, but when I could see that it _was_ possible, I broke off my chains and fought as lion to get where I am today.

_Today_, I'm pretty much proud of myself.

Another bird begins singing above my head and I make a quick stop to appreaciate its beauty. It sits on one of the branches which come from the tree on my right. I would love to freeze this moment; go grab my favorite camera and take a photo of this unnamed bird.

Unfortunately, some moments cannot be stopped in time.

Not every bird is willing to sit here all day long, just like people are not willing to stop running. Lots of them don't stop to enjoy the simplicity of life; of an exact moment. I had been the same boring person for a very long time, but then Damon came into my life and I finally learned how to jump off the cliffs and savor the moment of falling, or rather flying.

Now I can't live without it.

So when my head turns back to the narrow path that is in front of me and my eyes land on a familiar figure of the man I used to know, I let the time freeze for a few seconds.

He has changed a lot since the last day I saw him, but his eyes are still the same. Bright blue. Seductive gaze. Neverending amount of different emotions.

His eyes are _everything_.

Then I slowly look down and watch as his lips slightly open in awe and his soft cheeks turn red, just like they did when I touched them for the first time.

My knees begin trembling. My heart is wildly pounding.

He doesn't say anything and neither do I. We would stay in the same position probably for the rest of our lives, watching each other and wishing to take back the time, but my phone rings and reality comes crushing back.

Time is running again.

"_Elena_… Wait!"

And I'm running too. Again.

* * *

_Kill and run, kill and run_

_I'm one of the dirty guns_

_Kill and run, kill and run_

_A bullet through your heart_

* * *

So, what do you think? What about Damon's influence on Elena? Or Caroline's feelings? And have you already found out what is Elena's job?

P. S. Remember that nobody in chains ever soar up to the sun.

If you want me to continue with the story, please leave me a review or two. I accept any and every idea/suggestion/opinion. Thank you!

_You can follow me on tumblr: carlacorner_


End file.
